


Whether you like it or not

by LenaLawlipop



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Getting Together, M/M, Monster of the Week, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rating May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:21:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27325708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LenaLawlipop/pseuds/LenaLawlipop
Summary: "You know, when Amelia said they'd never had a witcher ask for sanctuary, she failed to mention it was the only one with a child."Geralt knew this voice better than his own. His blood froze, his stomach falling down to his feet as his breath caught in his throat. Ciri hid behind him, her heart rabbiting and her happiness quickly erased by the stink of fear. It made Geralt growl."It's okay," he told her in a sigh, turning around. "He's not a threat."
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 12
Kudos: 59
Collections: The Witcher Flash Fic Challenge: Halloween Special





	Whether you like it or not

Geralt hated cities out of principle, and ever since finding Ciri, they had become their worst enemy. They barely saw civilization for days, for weeks. It bore on Geralt, sure, but he was used to that. Ciri, on the other hand, seemed to be on the verge of a nervous breakdown. While Geralt had hoped that spending time together and realizing that the forest wasn't a threat to her anymore, would help her calm down and settle a little, it looked like Ciri was more and more nervous with each passing day.

There was only one thing to do, then.

They had stopped for the night, and Ciri was staring at their fire, small in comparison to anything Geralt would have built for himself, when he wasn't on the run from an entire army. She looked... small. Smaller, really. She was tiny, in comparison to Geralt. He wasn't entirely sure that she wasn't small for her age as well. She didn't even have two digits of age to her credit, Melitele...

He finished tending to Roach before getting some of their rations from their packs and offering it to her. They had run out of bread very early on, and fruit was scarce so soon after winter. Ciri didn't speak loudly enough for a human to hear when she thanked him, but Geralt heard her anyway. He nodded.

He hadn't told her about his plan yet, not wanting to scare her, but they were nearing Vizima, and it was their best chance.

"Hey," he said when he finished eating, softly as to not startle her. Ciri looked up, the same kind of surprise in her eyes that Geralt had grown used to seeing in Jaskier's when he spoke without being prompted. He shook himself. Not the time to think about that. "We're closing in on Vizima, and we've made good time. We should be able to stay there at least for a night, if you'd like."

"Really?" she asked, perking up. Geralt nodded, and she grinned. "Are you sure you'll be able to stand it? People actually speak to one another in cities, you know," she added, teasingly. Geralt snorted, rolling his eyes.

"I did know that," he reassured her, drily. She giggled, and stood to sit next to him, throw her arms around his middle.

He placed an arm around her as well, watching her finish her own meal. It had only been a couple of weeks, and while Ciri was clearly comfortable with having someone take care of her, Geralt was still adjusting to having someone need him this much.

Jaskier had needed him. Or at least, Geralt liked to think he had. It made him feel less ridiculous for having needed him as well. It also made him feel more guilty than he knew what to do with, but that was a completely different matter altogether. Geralt had yelled at Jaskier many, many times before, and not once had the bard actually left... He wasn't blind, he knew why this time was different, and this knowledge plagued him, even now. But he'd refused to let any of that get in the way of finding Ciri.

And now she was here, with him, and trusted him so completely... It was the closest Geralt had been to panic in... well, decades.

He scooped her up when she started to nod off against his side and held her close when she startled awake and tried to squirm out of his grasp before she recognized him. He didn't answer, but he held her even closer as she apologized in a rush and laid next to her in their shared bedroll. It took a while, but eventually Ciri stopped shivering, and fell asleep.

Her dreams were troubled, no matter what Geralt did, but he refused to let her go through it alone. She deserved better than that.

# #

"I seek sanctuary."

How long had it been since he said those words? He couldn't even recall ever saying them before. He'd heard countless people ask for it and seen priests and priestesses of various faiths grant it. But he'd never done so himself, and judging by the surprise in the novice's face, she had never heard a witcher ask for such a thing either. She blinked, confused, looking at him, at Roach, and at Ciri in his arms.

Ciri had insisted that Geralt carried her into the city, that it would make them look even more in need of help. Geralt had listened, mainly because it sounded like something Jaskier would say, and he wasn't experienced enough in dealing with people to know. Whether it was because of Ciri, or because she simply didn't know what else to do, the novice nodded after a moment.

"Please, do come in," she whispered. "I will call our priestess, and you may speak to her about it."

The gate to the temple of Melitele opened for them, and Geralt found himself looking around curiously. Ciri stayed quiet until they were left alone but made no move to climb off his arms when she raised her head from his shoulder.

"Have you seen a temple before?" she asked in hushed tones. He nodded.

"It's been... a long time," he admitted. "But I have seen temples before, even if I don't follow their faith."

"Do witchers have a religion?" she inquired.

"No," he replied, with a sigh. "It makes us complacent, and complacency will only bring death to a witcher."

"I think it sounds nice, complacency," Ciri assessed, with all the certainty of an eight-year-old. Geralt smiled.

"I wish it was as nice as it sounds, kid."

Geralt continued his exploration of the temple's surroundings. They had a stable, and Geralt could hear a few horses breathing inside, several heartbeats all mingling together in the small building. In the temple itself there seemed to only be one person. Young, possibly male,. The place was surrounded by a cloud of vaguely pleasant scents that muted that of whoever was inside but, for a moment, Geralt had the odd thought that their scent was… familiar. Inside the adjacent convent, a multitude of people moved around, too many for Geralt to count. They chattered to one another, creating a distant cacophony of sounds. It was far away enough that it didn't bother his ears.

Ciri had finally squirmed her way off his arms by the time the novice came back, but she still seemed genuinely startled when she saw her and the priestess of the temple looking at her. Geralt let her hide behind him. The women smiled.

"Witcher," the older woman addressed him, and he looked at her. "My name is Bronya. I'm told you're in need of... sanctuary."

"Yes."

"For you and the child?"

"She's with me."

"And the mother?"

To this, Geralt didn't answer. After a second, the priestess sighed.

"You may stay," she said, gently. "But this is a temple, witcher. If whatever is threatening you follows you into our home, you will have to leave, am I understood?"

"Yes, Mother Bronya," he replied, quietly. If the priestess was surprised to be addressed properly, she didn't show it.

After a few seconds in which the novice looked between them, confused, Bronya shook her head and turned to her.

"Show the witcher where he may sleep, Amelia. As for the kid..."

"She's with me," Geralt repeated, and Ciri burrowed into his side a little more. Bronya frowned, but shrugged.

"Show the witcher and the child where they may sleep, then. And take the horse to the stable."

"Yes, Mother Bronya."

There were no more questions after that.

Amelia brought them around to the stable, where they left Roach in what seemed like good hands. All the horses there were clean and seemed well-fed. Roach nuzzled Geralt before he left, hooking her head over his shoulder the way she did when she wanted him to pay more attention to her. The novice laughed, but she didn't wait for them, so Roach had to content herself with a few more rushed pets. Ciri cooed at her as they left, blowing her a kiss, and Geralt felt suddenly quite happy that Amelia was walking ahead. Witchers didn't blush, but he certainly was in need of a moment to get back his breath. Ciri grinned at him, open, and hopeful, for the first time in days.

"We'll come back to brush her before bed, won't we?" she pleaded, and Geralt nodded, powerless to say otherwise. "Okay!"

Next, Amelia showed them around the convent. There was a separate wing for visitors, where they would be staying. There were some other guests, judging from what she said, and the number of rooms they skipped, but not as many as there could be. Geralt nodded in thanks when Amelia opened a door for them.

"You may stay here, then," she said, conversationally, walking into the room to open the window briefly. Cold air rushed in, but the room sorely needed it anyways. The dust was almost enough to bother even Geralt, who was used to sleeping on the floor as he traveled the Path. Ciri sneezed. "Oh, the poor thing!" Amelia laughed. "Don't worry, it'll get much better with some fresh air. We don't get to use the double rooms as much, most people who stay with us are lone travelers. Although, not so many as of late..."

"Has anything happened?" Geralt asked, almost automatically. Amelia seemed surprised at the interruption.

"Oh! Well, you may not have had time to see the news board on the town square," she realized. "We've been having a lot of trouble with something or another in the forest west from here. No one really knows what's lurking in there, but a lot of people have been disappearing... Are you also fleeing from that?" she asked. Geralt shook his head.

"I will take a look in the morning," he offered instead. "It might be work for a witcher, after all."

"Oh! Very well, then."

When Amelia left, Ciri rounded up on him, arms flying to her hips.

"You're going to go to the square!" she accused him. He raised an eyebrow.

"Well, there aren't many other ways to find the town's news board, don't you think?"

"I want to go as well!"

"Ciri..."

"I don't want to just stay here all day!"

How many times had Geralt had this conversation before? Certainly not with Ciri, but... he sighed. It was worth a try. Ciri wasn't Jaskier, after all...

"I'll take you to the square if you stay here while I hunt," he offered. Ciri seemed to think about it.

"Are you going to kill... it?" she asked tentatively. Geralt nodded, and she grimaced. "I think I prefer the square then."

Finally, then, a travel companion with a sense of self-preservation. He nodded again, and Ciri set out to rearrange their packs, humming. It took Geralt a second to realize she was humming, still somewhat used to having music around him whenever he had company. He sighed, making her stop and look up at him.

"Roach?" he reminded her before she could ask if he was okay. Her face lit up, and she nodded.

They passed Amelia, going out of one of the other rooms, cheeks pink as she laughed at something someone inside had said, but she straightened her back when she saw him, alert. Geralt lowered his head in greeting, but otherwise tried his best to ignore the humans. No need to make them more uncomfortable than necessary...

Ciri at least didn't seem to mind. She squealed when Roach whinnied upon seeing her and started chatting up to the mare in a way she'd clearly picked up from Geralt. He sat down and watched his daughter — his _daughter_! — brush Roach eagerly, as best as she could.

He was grateful for the possible contract in the morning, really, and not just for the coin. There were too many conflicted feelings within him lately, and he needed something that would clear his head, and let him focus on a simple task.

# #

"You know, when Amelia said they'd never had a witcher ask for sanctuary, she failed to mention it was the only one with a child."

Geralt knew this voice better than his own. His blood froze, his stomach falling down to his feet as his breath caught in his throat. Ciri hid behind him, her heart rabbiting and her happiness quickly erased by the stink of fear. It made Geralt growl.

"It's okay," he told her in a sigh, turning around. "He's not a threat."

"Oh, but I'm about to be!" Jaskier announced, crossing his arms. "The last time I saw you, Yen left you, and you left me, and now she's here? If you're planning on doing the same to her, Geralt, I swear..."

"Cintra has fallen."

The words seemed to be enough to shut Jaskier up. He closed his eyes, nodded slowly. His fingers twitched in what Geralt recognized as a silent chord progression, pressed against his arm, almost a reflex. When he opened his eyes again, he looked at Ciri.

"My condolences, princess," he whispered, walking closer. "What shall I call you?"

"Fiona," she said, but her confidence seemed to fail her as she realized that Jaskier knew exactly who she was. The bard nodded.

"A bit too on the nose, isn't it? That's simply another one of your names."

"We haven't been to a city in a while, haven't needed another," Geralt settled. Jaskier nodded again.

His eyes swept over Geralt, and he almost expected to be scolded about the state of his hair, which was at least clean, if not perfectly untangled, or the state of his clothes, which needed mending, if not cleaning. But Jaskier didn't speak, glance hardening but keeping silent in a show of restraint that honestly bothered Geralt. The air was tense, and he had no idea of how to make it better. Jaskier jerked his head toward the notice board.

"Are you taking it, then?"

"Yes."

"Of course you are," he said, and Melitele, he _sneered_. Geralt had never seen Jaskier make that face at him. "Trust Geralt to go after the crazy witches, I guess..."

It was a testament to how long Jaskier had spent by his side, learning about the various threats of the Continent, that he'd been able to figure out what it was from the simple description in the board. Geralt didn't answer, instead turning around and leading Ciri back to the temple. He didn't need to look, he knew Jaskier would follow them, if nothing else just to keep talking. He wasn't disappointed.

Jaskier didn't talk to him, however. He talked to Ciri. At first, he received no response, but that had never seemed to deter him before, and it didn't then. After a while, when the temple was once again within sight, only then did Ciri start to answer back, tentatively, to every other sentence. She only cracked a smile when Jaskier asked after Roach, but still, Geralt felt incredibly validated by the fact that Ciri chose to remain all but plastered to his side as they walked.

"He's your friend?" she asked Geralt, interrupting Jaskier as they crossed the main gate of the temple, Geralt blinked. "You've met him before, right?"

"Jaskier? Yes, years ago," Geralt admitted, unsure of how to answer to her first question. "He can't fight for shit, but if you're ever alone and happen to find him, you can trust him."

"I can't fight either," she shrugged

"Hmm."

She wasn't entirely right, but Geralt was still unsure of how much of her power she could control, so he said nothing. Jaskier kept quiet after that, but he followed through the gardens, and into the building. When he finally spoke again, they were almost at the rooms.

"Can I talk to you?" he asked, and when Geralt looked up, Jaskier was staring at him. "Fiona, why don't you go ahead? Geralt will be there in a second."

She didn't move, not until Geralt nudged her forward.

"I won't go any farther, I'll be right here," he promised. She hesitated, but eventually left. Jaskier sighed.

"Look at you, being nice," he spat out. Geralt winced.

"Jaskier..."

"Save it. I don't want excuses."

"What do you want, then?" Geralt asked. Jaskier squared his shoulders, lifting his chin in defiance.

"I'm going with you to that fight. I assume you won't be taking Fiona, but we all know you can't be left alone with crazy witches, and that kid depends on you now."

Geralt snorted, shaking his head.

"No way. I thought you didn't want anything to do with crazy witches anyway."

"I don't!" Jaskier cried, hands balling into fists. "And I know you want nothing to do with me, but here we are, and life isn't always the way we want it to be."

Geralt had learned, in time, that nothing would stop Jaskier from going with him on a hunt if he'd set his sight to it, short of being physically incapable. He turned around to leave.

"Geralt!"

"Wait with Roach," Geralt muttered, and it seemed to be enough. Whether Jaskier replied something after that, he didn't stay to listen.

Ciri jumped up to her feet as he entered the room, and he offered a quiet smile.

"It's okay. See? I'm here. Jaskier isn't a threat."

"Is he the bard that made all of those songs about you?" she asked, eagerly. Geralt nodded, and she finally smiled. "He must really love you, then!"

Geralt couldn't help but snort again, this time more affectionately.

"Perhaps, once," he acquiesced, because he knew Ciri wouldn't understand. "But not anymore."

"He said you left him," she recalled, frowning. "Were you two together?"

"We used to travel together," he clarified.

Thankfully, Ciri didn't ask more. She settled in the desk of the room, picked Geralt's bestiary from his pack.

"I want to know what's out there," she said, gravely, entirely too serious for a kid who could barely read half of the words in the book, much less provide a definition. Geralt frowned. He hoped the pictures wouldn't scare her too much, but he wasn't in the business of over protecting humans either.

He checked his blades, and his potions, carefully entrusting Ciri with their pouch of coin. He kneeled in front of her before he left.

"Ciri?" he called, and she looked at him curiously. "Please, do _not_ leave the temple, okay? I will be back as soon as possible. Judging by the notice, it shouldn't take longer than a day."

"I won't," she promised.

"Talk to the novices and priestesses here, if you want, but be careful of how much you say," he reminded her as well, and she nodded. "Keep the coin always with you, and if anything happens, make sure you take the small pack with you, it has the rations and your clothes."

"What about Roach?"

"I'm taking Roach with me; it will make things faster."

"Can I talk to Jaskier?"

"No, Jaskier is coming with me. He wants to make sure I come back in one piece to you."

"Okay!"

She _seemed_ okay, but Geralt knew full well that it wouldn't take long for the situation to sink in. It was going to be the first time they separated since they had finally found each other...

"Geralt?" Ciri asked meekly only moments after, as he adjusted his armor and picked up his own pack. "You're really coming back in the morning, right?"

"Of course."

"... okay."

She didn't say, but as she jumped from the chair to launch herself at him, Geralt heard it anyways.

"I'll miss you too, cub," he whispered, and her arms tightened around his waist.

# #

Jaskier was never this quiet, and if Geralt's medallion had shown the slightest inclination of reacting, he wouldn't have hesitated to kill this farce of an impersonation. He wondered, not for the first time, whether he should just get it over with, and start a conversation himself.

They continued ahead, Pegasus, the horse that Jaskier had bought since they last saw each other, keeping pace with Roach without a fuss.

"Why are you in Vizima?" Geralt offered after some more time. Jaskier startled, but he didn't smile the way he would have if Geralt had said the same thing months before.

"Oxenfurt," he replied laconically.

Geralt didn't try again.

Jaskier was clearly still angry, but Geralt didn't have time for this. He was hunting, and he couldn't afford this kind of distraction right now. It had been a long time since he'd bothered arguing with Jaskier about whether he should accompany him on a hunt, and Jaskier had, in turn, started to come along less and less as time went on. But now things seemed different, and not just because of The Argument. Jaskier seemed... almost tired. Almost scared. It was hard to say, when a human felt so many conflicting emotions, which one was the main one, or what might have caused it. So Geralt chose to ignore him for the time being.

The alderman had posted a notice on their board for a witcher to come help with whatever was taking their men away into the forest, never to come back. Whatever it was, it didn't seem constrained to a place or time of day, and judging by the descriptions of the people who last saw the missing men, it took different forms, mostly women.

It could be a variety of things, but a sorceress with a particularly good glamour spell seemed the most reasonable for now. Changelings weren't common, and it was even less common for them to kill humans, when what they wanted was to fit in, to remain unnoticed as far as possible.

True to form, Jaskier managed to remain quiet for just as long as it took Geralt to start truly focusing on the mission.

"Did you mean it? I promised myself I wouldn't ask, but we both know I'm not built for self-restraint," he admitted.

"Mean...?"

Geralt knew what he was talking about, of course. He looked at Jaskier, who was staring at his hands, very pointedly avoiding Geralt's face. He took a deep breath, but his words died in his mouth as a giggle interrupted them both, making them stop dead in their tracks. Roach whinnied in protest as Geralt pulled on her reins a tad too sharply.

"Oh, he meant it..."

He dismounted quickly, looking around for the source of the voice, but he couldn't find it. Jaskier followed him, frowning. Whether it was because of the voice itself, or its words, Geralt couldn't know.

As he turned around to try and look behind them, he found himself face to face with a petite woman, dressed in a delicate, white, frilly dress. Her blond curls fell around her face, framing it and making her look almost angelic. She smiled, sweet and soft, and raised a hand to touch it to Geralt's cheek. It would have been almost cute, if she hadn't been holding a human skull in her other hand. Geralt snatched her hand away from himself, crushing her wrist with his grip, but she didn't take back her words. Instead, her smile turned wider, feral.

"You meant it, and you wished it would break his heart, didn't you, Geralt?"

Well, whatever or whoever this was, they had an interest in making Geralt's life harder. He growled as he caught the scent of pain, hurt and sadness from Jaskier, who still managed to snort derisively.

"Well, Geralt?" he asked, quietly. "Is that it then?"

Geralt sighed.

Fuck.


End file.
